Home is the Rebel, a Black and Blue story
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: Soolin extricated herself from the debris that had been the Gauda Prime rebels' base. The only life she saw was a man in black standing silent, staring at nothing. So begins her journey, as she follows Avon on his quest back...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however. _

_Thanks to CJH4Ever for reading the first draft and for suggestions that I've tried to take._

_Ever wondered what kind of home Avon came from? Who he was? Why he left there? I've tried to answer those questions in this story. I hope you find the results intriguing and enjoyable._

Chapter 1

Soolin extricated herself from the last of the rebel base's debris, becoming aware of a profound silence. By some miracle she wasn't ready to attribute to a higher deity, she'd only been stunned during the final battle between the rebels and the Federation. When the scene of the battle, Blake's rebel base, had fallen about them all, she'd been protected by a desk she'd rolled under.

She straightened, looking around, assessing her position and checking for predators, like large animals or Federation troopers. The only life she saw was a man standing several meters away, silently staring at…nothing, as far as she could tell. He was as ragged and dirty as she, with the addition of a lot of dried blood, though it scarcely showed against his black clothing.

Mindful of his seeming madness of late and the homicidal, or perhaps suicidal, tendencies he'd shown this day, she approached him cautiously. Not quite daring to lay a hand on him, she inquired softly, "Avon?"

No response.

She dared to touch his arm, asking with more irritation than she had ever have shown her superior officer before, "Avon? Answer me!"

No reaction.

Her arms dropped to her sides, weariness combined with hopelessness making even standing upright a battle.

Pulling on reserves she hadn't known she still possessed, she stepped around to face him. Reaching up, she grasped both shoulders and shook the man. Had he been conscious and in his right mind - and when had he last been IN his right mind - he might just have shot her for taking that kind of liberty with him. _Vila's the only one who wouldn't have gotten killed for doing this, and he's already dead_, she thought sadly.

The bloodied man's eyes didn't flicker, didn't focus on her. He stared over her shoulder, into some private universe where he was alone.

Defeated, she turned away. For want of something better to do, she began talking as if the man were there and attentive, but, really, she was discussing her options with herself.

"Well, we're in a fix, aren't we?" she began, seating herself on a large chunk of pillar. Absently blowing a strand of blond hair out of her face, she glanced sadly around the wreckage of the rebel base that had become a grave for all of her comrades and friends. Well, except the dark silent one beside her. "There's no one around but us, not even…" She trailed off, picturing bold, bluff Tarrant, dark and deadly Dayna, perpetually fearful Vila.

She shook her head, banishing their phantoms. This was no time for that kind of thinking. It was useless, wasn't it?

"Best not to think of them now. Got to get moving now and find a safe place for the night. After that I'll see about salvaging supplies from this place. Then, if there is a 'then', see about getting us off this world."

The immovable object named Avon moved as though struck. He took one step forward, then stopped.

Soolin blinked, bolting to her feet at his first movement, ready to follow him or restrain him, depending on what he was intent upon doing. Her heart sped up, her eyes widened, her blood raced, going automatically into battle mode as she'd been trained. Her hands scrabbled at her empty holsters in a desperate, reflexive search for her weapons.

When he just stood there, she deliberately calmed herself before considering his action.

"So, you want to leave Gauda Prime too." Her chest rose and fell, a weary sigh escaping her. The adrenaline of a moment ago had drained the last of her reserves. "Well, it looks like I'm responsible for you for awhile, doesn't it? I wonder what's going on in that twisted mind of yours?" she mused. "Guess I'll just have to wait and see, huh? You're the only one I have left and I certainly can't abandon you now."

Rising, she continued, "Okay, let's look for a hidey hole for the night and see where tomorrow takes us, shall we?" Taking Avon's arm, she urged him to walk toward a likely-looking outcrop of rocks, the first step on a very long road for the pair of them.

+The terrible noise finally receded, and a blissful silence reigned. Avon curled, comfortable and calm, in the dark. They'd finally left him alone. The guilt and crushing weight were gone, leaving behind a new freedom. He floated in nothingness.+

+Except for that silver thread. Still, it wasn't much of a disturbance. He tried to ignore it. But it allowed him no peace, itching and plucking at him. Finally, exasperated, he uncurled and began tentatively following the fine thread.+

+The thread became a cord. Avon now had no trouble following it. He became aware of another presence, following him, one that was all golden and shining, hovering on the edge of his consciousness. He decided to ignore it, focusing entirely on the cord. He still didn't know where it led. He just knew he had to follow it to the end.+

+The cord was a rope now. Its twisted fibers were made of gold and silver, sunshine and moonshine, and it tugged mightily at him, forcing him ever onward. He gave up fighting it entirely and began longing for the destination he could just barely feel ahead of him.+

+There it was: the end of his journey, the goal, the pull on him, and it had a name-HOME! As he reached it, just before falling into a deep dreamless sleep, he felt that golden presence slip into home behind him.+

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and want to read more. Please review, good or suggestions for improvement!_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 2

When she heard the second person approach the stall where Avon slept, Soolin reluctantly roused from her own hiding place, exhaustion marring her fair features. She grimaced at the feel of the dirty, grimy coveralls she wore, ones too big for her petite frame, especially with the weight she'd lost. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt clean.

Peering through the bars of the stall she knelt in, Soolin watched. The first person who'd discovered Avon must have told his boss and now they were going to be evicted. Too bad, too, it was the first time good sleep Avon had had since…before.

With a touch of surprise, she watched as an older blond woman quietly approached and opened the top half of the door to Avon's stall. The wariness with which the woman moved startled Soolin.

He wasn't much of a threat to anyone, not like he was now, anyway. Before…yes, threatening was one of the words she would have used to describe Avon. In his favored black clothes, dark piercing eyes, black wavy hair, solidly built body held fiercely straight…he had been one of the proudest, most intimidating officers she'd ever served under, as well as, she had to admit, the smartest and the most crafty.

But now? He'd become almost skeletal. Unkempt hair hung down his back, clubbed back by her, after a battle that had left her bruised and resentful. He was next to filthy, as he wouldn't stop walking long enough for more than a few hours sleep before rising and walking on again. She'd learned, through hard experience, to tie a cord between their two wrists after he'd dropped off to sleep, so she'd know when he was up and leaving her.

The woman, looking vaguely familiar to Soolin, stood for several moments, staring at the sleeping man, curled uncaring in the straw, loomed over by the glaring black stallion that had keep Soolin at bay with pawing and snorting and flat-out bared teeth, its great head snaking out at her with murder in its eyes.

After a few moments, Soolin left her hiding place and crept silently toward the woman. Whatever happened next, Soolin had to be prepared to defend this man.

"Are you with him, young woman?"

The question, coming unexpectedly and in an almost familiar voice, froze Soolin for a second. _How did she know I was here? I was the best scout in our group. Even Avon grudgingly admitted that. I must be slipping. Or maybe I'm just too tired_.

Soolin reined her thoughts in and answered politely as possible, "Yes, ma'am. He's harmless enough. I…wanted him to sleep as long as he could before we went on."

She moved to lean on the door beside the woman, looking down at the ragged man in black tatters, curled in the straw, so peaceful and still, unmindful of the powerful stallion hovering over him. "It's the first time he's slept well in weeks."

There was a smile in the woman's voice as she said, "People often sleep better when they finally reach home."

Soolin turned to the woman in absolute shock and frankly stared. _Yes. Yes, she has his features, but more feminine. She's blond, though. His coloring must come from his father_. A shiver tiptoed down her back. _His father. I'll bet he's as formidable as Avon, and probably just as stubborn and high-handed and…dangerous_.

"So he did have a goal in mind. How long…" she began, then stopped, uncertain if she was trespassing on private areas.

The woman merely smiled and finished it for her. "…since he left? Over eighteen years." She looked sadly at her son, so much older and all grown up now. Her thoughts ranged back the years, seeing the intense, volatile young man he'd been at sixteen, chaffing under the yoke of their agrarian society, where technology, while not forbidden, was nonetheless suspect, except in machinery.

Soolin also looked at him, but from an entirely different perspective. Softly, she intruded on the woman's thoughts. "It's a shame you couldn't have known him as an adult. He had the sharpest, the best mind I'd ever run across."

Avon's mother flared, blue eyes wide. "Had? What's wrong with him, young woman? I've a right to know!" Even keeping her voice quiet to avoid disturbing Avon, his mother managed to convey her distress at Soolin's indictment.

Soolin considered. The woman clearly still loved her son. How much could she tell her of what he'd been through? What he'd done? Who he'd been?

She began slowly, feeling for words. "We…were in a battle. All the rest of us died and…he was forced to kill his best friend. Since we escaped, he hasn't said a word to anyone. He can still speak," she hastened to assure the woman, stemming the questions trembling on her lips, "but he does it only when he wakens from his nightmares. Mostly screaming."

Soolin shook her head and she fell silent.

Sighing, the woman prompted, "And how did you get here?"

Soolin smiled ruefully. "I sort of followed him. He never told me where to go or even acknowledged my presence, but somehow he made me know what he wanted. We…I worked a short-handed freighter for awhile. They let me keep him in my cabin as long as he didn't get in the way. He left the ship when it landed here and just started walking. What else could I do? I followed. That was six, no, seven days ago," she finished.

Avon's mother studied her for several moments, then asked, "What's your name, girl?"

"Soolin, ma'am."

"Sue Lynn what?"

Startled, she answered with a name no one except the men she'd killed for destroying her family had heard from her lips in more than ten years. "Johanson, ma'am. Sue Lynn Johanson." She lifted her chin, daring the world to try and put her down or discount her.

The woman understood. Extending her hand, she smiled. "I'm Josephus Avenil. Carolius Avenil Mercator is my second-born son." Tears glimmered in her eyes as she looked back at Avon, still asleep in the straw. "Thank you for bringing him back to me, Sue Lynn Johanson." They both watched in silence as the restless stallion eased over to Avon and nuzzled his shoulder.

Clearing her throat against the lump of emotion there, Josephus added, "By the way, I'd advise against entering that stall until he's awake. Fleetfoot would as soon kill a person as look at him, except for Cari, there."

It was Soolin's turn to grin. "Somehow, that figures." She laughed softly, thinking it had been a very long time since she'd done that.

Maybe things were looking up for them. Well, at least for Avon. She was, after all, a stranger.

While Avon…Avon was the prodigal son, finding his way at last to home.

_A/N: Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 3

How can things change so much and still stay the same?

Since yesterday, when she'd met Avon's mother, Soolin had met the entire family, been assigned a room in the main house, and begun earning her keep by helping with the farm work. Being farm-raised herself, she settled in quite well.

She rather liked Avon's sister Alexandra. At 26, she was a pretty, dark, petit woman, married to Ston Pon'Abello, a brown-haired, medium built, dour man. They lived with the Mercator family, Alex being second to her mother Josephus and Ston working with Avenil and Demi on the vast spread they called a farm.

Demi. Short for Demetrius, the youngest son was 24. Only six when Avon left, he'd been raised on stories of Avon all his life, from Josephus and Alexandra, mostly, from what Soolin could gather. She suppressed a smile at the young man's exuberant energy, seeing in him a shadow of Avon's past. He was slender, dark of eye and hair like Avon. Unlike his older brother, though, Demi was open, pleasant, caring, enthusiastic. Was Avon ever like that? Even as a child? Before he rebelled and left home?

Soolin felt her face heat up, even in the chill morning air, thinking how handsome she found the young man. She shook her head, berating herself for such thoughts. Though her contemporary in age, he seemed much younger and more…innocent_. Maybe it's because he hasn't seen the death and destruction I have_, she concluded.

She sighed, following the men as they entered the barn. Josephus had decided that Avon belonged in the house, not in a horse stall, so Soolin, Avon's father Avenil Septus Mercator, and Ston were now tasked with extracting him.

It wouldn't be easy, though. According to Avenil, it would take the two men just to keep the stallion at bay. The big black was a killer. Only Avon, who'd raised him from a foal, had ever been able to control the beast.

Avon's father was a strange man. Avenil Septus Mercator smiled often enough and had a bold, booming laugh, but he hadn't asked her any questions about his wandering son. She could see the resemblance to Avon, though, in his dark coloring, but the father was larger and more burly, with curly hair.

The man reminded her of Avon's commanding officer and friend, the rebel leader Roj Blake. Avon had followed Blake whole-heartedly, applying all his intelligence and passion to carrying out Blake's plans. Not that the two had agreed on much. Their heated arguments on strategy and goals and objectives were infamous. But when the plan was set, Avon threw all his energy and considerable intellect behind it. Always Blake's most trusted and valued lieutenant.

Now, with both Avenil and Ston armed with pitchforks and electric prods, Soolin opened the heavy, reinforced door to the roomy box stall. The men edged past her, weapons ready for the fight.

The stallion lunged toward them, ears flat to his skull, eyes white rimmed, hooves and bared teeth searching for tender human flesh. Always, though, keeping himself between Avon and the men, protecting the quiet man who sat in the straw, oblivious to the battle raging over and around him. That was one vicious horse!

It remembered Avon, though. Strange, how long an animal's memory is and how short a human's.

With feints and countermoves, Avenil and Ston forced the stallion away from Avon and into a far corner, though the horse never stopped testing the men, stomping and squealing and snorting his displeasure. Edging cautiously from behind the two men, Soolin urged Avon to stand and led him out of the stall. He came unresisting, which worried her. Even mute, he'd made his opinions known in no uncertain terms whenever she wanted something contrary to his wishes.

The men followed hastily, slamming the door in the angry stallion's face. Avenil and Ston braced themselves against it as the animal raged on the other side, aiming several kicks at the massive gate as Soolin fumbled with the heavy slide bolt. As soon as it closed, Ston moved away and Avenil dropped the even weightier metal bar into its brackets.

Panting, red-faced, Avenil bent over, bracing his arms on his knees, his breath ragged, as he released the tension and adrenaline from their battle.

Ston stood nearby, watching Avon silently, eyes and body revealing…what? An image came to Soolin's mind of a wild starving dog eyeing the bait in a trap. Now why would the man feel like that toward his brother-in-law? Certainly Avon was no threat to him. No threat to anyone, for that matter, except maybe himself.

As her own breathing returned to normal, Soolin questioned, "If that animal is so vicious, why keep him? Why breed more of him?"

Avenil flashed her a devilish sidewise grin that was pure Avon. "Because he sires the best racers in these parts, that's why," he rumbled.

"Well, I hope he doesn't pass that temper on," she said, taking Avon's arm and steering him toward the house.

"We take care to breed him to only the gentlest mares. Then, we train the foals early as possible to respect authority. Usually works. His get have topped the fall sales for ten years running."

The group crossed the yard, approaching the house, Avon shuffling along amiably in Soolin's hold. Mounting the wide porch steps, all seemed peaceful and quiet, their task completed.

Until they reached the kitchen door.

Avon dug in his heels, bracing his arms at the sides of the door. He threw back his head and roared his wordless pain at what they were trying to do to him. Avenil, brushing Soolin aside, tried to pry Avon's hands off the door jamb, shouldering his bulk into Avon's back.

Avon's howls brought Josephus hurrying through the kitchen, with Alexandra close behind, peering wide-eyed over her mother's shoulder.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Aven, don't force him if he doesn't' want to come in!" she protested. "Let him go, Aven, now!"

Abruptly all sound and motion ceased. As soon as Avenil backed away from Avon, his son fell silent, standing mute once again. Soolin, receiving a wordless nod from his mother, sighed and steered him back toward the barn.

Over her shoulder, she asked Avenil, "The next stall okay, sir?"

His father nodded, defeat lying heavily on his broad shoulders, as Soolin and his oldest son returned the way they'd come. His eyes followed them, troubled, though only Josephus saw.

No one caught the pleased expression on Ston's face as he turned away, a half-smile quirking his lips.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think of the story so far. Review._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 4

Soolin and Alexandra settled Avon in a clean, vacant stall in the barn, next to the anxious stallion snuffling along the fence, close enough to quiet the animal's tantrums. The young women left clean clothes and water and soap for him. Maybe he'd use them when he was alone. Or not. When they left, he was sitting, body relaxed, against the stall's side wall, near as possible to the stallion chuffing quietly at his back. Just staring.

+Something still jangled along Avon's nerves, jarring, irritating, something he had to actively suppress, something ugly awaiting his attention. He only felt safe here, not in that other place. There was a bar, an electric painful bar that kept him out of that other place, no matter how he longed to enter. Not yet, whispered a voice in the back of his mind. Wait awhile, it advised.+

After that, they all left him alone, except to check on him and bring him food, which either Soolin or Alexandra brought. At first, Josephus had taken turns with them, but it always brought her to tears to feed her grown son as though he were a baby. After awhile, the woman couldn't bear the sight any longer and ceded his care to the two younger women.

Soolin saw that most of the family really cared for their prodigal son. All that is except his father and Ston. She pondered Avon's relationship to them but never came to any conclusions. Lack of relevant facts, she finally decided.

What a hard man Avenil was. He fended off that horse and tried to get Avon into the house, but he never once addressed the silent man. Never touched him or smiled at him, or frowned, for that matter. It was like he was helping a perfect stranger, for the sake of hospitality. There's something between them, Soolin could see that. But it was like some impassible wall that no one mentioned.

Was it any of her business, really?

Well, maybe, since it affected Avon. She still felt responsible for the man, at least as long as he wasn't able to fend for himself.

She opened Avon's stall home, just to check on him before she went on with her chores, bringing his breakfast and a fresh pitcher of water.

The stall was empty.

"Where is he now?" she muttered in exasperation. It had happened before, so she searched Avon's usual hangouts. The feed room with its homey smell of molasses. The tack room where she'd found him asleep in a dark corner, surrounded by saddle trees and harness, the air redolent of leather and saddle soap. As soon as Avon started going walkabout on his own, they'd taken the precaution of padlocking the stallion's box stall, to forestall repeated extractions.

No success with his usual haunts. Now she was prowling the less familiar areas of the vast structure the Mercator's called a 'barn'.

Hah! It wasn't like any barn she'd ever seen. It was much more than the usual rural structure of Old Calendar Earth. Here on Grange, the barn was the center of the homestead and housed not only the agricultural equipment and the livestock, but processing equipment and storage facilities. It was huge and connected to the living quarters by an open breezeway, though during the winter, she was told, it was closed in, forming an impervious tunnel that allowed access to the working facilities despite inclement weather and snow buildup.

So wrapped up in her search was she that Demi's voice, coming from a shadowed side passage, startled her into a defensive crouch, backed into the aisle wall.

"Hey! Didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, waving his hands in front of him. He blinked down at her, his brow furrowed. "I just wanted you to wait up."

Soolin straightened, brushing straw from one knee, then she was off again, Demi hurrying to catch up.

"Mind if I ask where we're heading? Or are we looking for Cari again?"

That stopped her in her tracks. Turning, she demanded, "What do you mean, 'again'?"

He leaned against a stall fence, drawing one booted foot up, bracing it against the boards. Smiling engagingly, he shrugged, holding both hands palms up.

"I meant, why not give him some space? You and the whole family are always checking up on him." He touched Soolin's arm gently and continued seriously, "I don't know the man he became, but I knew the kid he was. I was only six when he left, but I remember how he'd go off by himself. Needing to get away from the rest of us, I guess. One or another of us would run upon him some place quiet or with just the animals. I remember most finding him with Fleetfoot." The young man laughed, a sound Soolin found she liked hearing.

"That damned colt went everywhere with him. Mother was all that kept the animal from sleeping in Cari's room!"

Soolin chuckled at the mental image of Avon and that vicious stallion sleeping together in one huge bed, the horse's tail sweeping across them both, brushing away intruding flies.

Another laugh, lower and quieter, echoed down the aisle and they both froze.

Quirking an eyebrow at Demi, Soolin crept toward the sound. Peering around a corner, they found Avon.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of a calf pen, he was merrily fending off inquisitive noses, butting heads, and long hungry tongues.

As they watched, one mostly red calf with a white face and spotted ears came up behind Avon, reached out and started to suck on his rolled up shirt sleeve. When Avon tried to pull away, the other calves surged forward, shoving him over backwards. Sprawled flat on his back, Avon found himself gazing up into a ring of surprised calves' faces.

When Soolin surged forward to go to his aid, Demi grabbed her arm, holding a finger to his lips and miming, "Watch!" She subsided reluctantly, fear for Avon knotting her stomach.

After one silent moment, the downed man erupted in laughter, full and hearty, so infectious both watchers had to struggle to keep from joining in and revealing themselves.

Demi touched her arm and with a quirked eyebrow, so like Avon's that Soolin had to bite back a smile, motioned her away.

At sufficient distance to be unheard, she admitted, "Okay, maybe you're right and we have been smothering him. It certainly appears like he can take care of himself, around here, at least."

Nodding thanks to Demi, she left the older brother to his own devices, as she proceeded to the feed troughs to get on with her chores. Demi trailed behind, keeping his own silence, while admiring the way Soolin looked from behind, wearing a pair of his sister's borrowed jeans that were just a touch too small for the woman's hips.

The two of them were nearing the breezeway entrance when they heard voices raised in argument.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think of the story so far. In other words, review._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 5

Soolin recognized Alexandra's anguished voice first.

"What have you got against Cari, Ston? Why do you dislike him so?"

Ston came back at her angrily, biting off his words. "He is a threat! He's the eldest born now, not you. Sure, he's crazy. But if ever he regains his senses, he stands to inherit from your father, not you. Can't you see, we'd have nothing. Nothing!"

They heard a fist crack against flesh. Soolin barely restrained Demi from rushing to his sister's aid, but Alexandra's next words reassured them both that Ston hadn't hit his wife.

"But…but Ston! All that really matters is Cari. We'll manage if I don't inherit. That's not important. Cari is. I…just don't understand you, Ston." Her frustration was clear to the listeners.

"Did you think I wanted to be a 'steader all my life? This, all this, is my ticket out of here. Once you inherit, we can go anywhere in the universe. We can go where the real life is." He was pleading with her at the last, his words yearning toward something that meant a great deal to him.

Alexandra's voice came quietly, the edge of hurt raw to their ears.

"Is that why you married me, Ston? To take my family's home and sell it? So, you didn't mean all those things you said to me. That you loved me, that you needed me to make your life complete."

"Now Alex, you're overreacting," Ston rushed in, seeing his mistake too late. "It isn't as simple as that. You just don't understand."

"Oh, I understand, all right."

The two heard her marching away and Ston slamming about, cursing. With mutually understood nods, Soolin and Demi turned and slipped away.

When she figured they were far enough away, Soolin pulled Demi abruptly into a storage area and plopped him down on some feed bags.

Demi, startled by the forcefulness of this little woman, sat without speaking, head cocked, waiting for her to explain herself. She never ceased to surprise him. She was so unlike any other girl he'd ever met. In fact, all the others paled by comparison to this blue-eyed blond. He was only sorry that she seemed in love with his elder brother. If she weren't…

"Okay, Demi, spill it. Why would Avon…Cari inherit this place? Your mother said he was her second son. Where's the eldest son?" Hands on hips, she waited expectantly.

Demi shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but I don't know the whole story. I was only six when Cari left, and Tavi died before that. All I do know is that somehow father blamed Cari for Tavi's death." The young man rose and began to pace about the small room, running his hand abstractedly through his shoulder length dark hair.

Soolin sat down to avoid Demi's pacing strides, raising a hand to absently gnaw at a fingernail while she thought.

"Avon was responsible for…Tavi, was it?…for his death? How?"

"Avenil Octavian Mercator was his full name, but everyone called him Tavi. He was two years older than Cari and father's pride and joy, to hear others tell it. I don't know how he died or why Cari was blamed. Father never talked about it, and neither mother nor Alex would tell me anything when I was old enough to ask questions. I am sure it happened here at home and that only Cari and Tavi were involved."

He stopped pacing then and threw himself down next to Soolin, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. In a quieter voice, he continued, seeing scenes from long, long ago.

"I remember some bits and pieces, but not about Tavi's death. He had flaxen hair, like mother, and he was big, larger than Cari. I guess he took after father physically and mother in coloring. I can still hear his laugh and feel him swinging me around in the air. Everyone liked him, especially the girls, I'm told. But for some reason he never got along with Cari." He lifted his head to regard the silent Soolin.

"Maybe Cari was jealous of Tavi or maybe their personalities just didn't mesh. Whatever the reason, I remember them fighting, with words and fists both. Tavi was bigger, of course, but Cari was quicker, so it was pretty much an even match physically, but with words, Cari won every time!"

Soolin nodded, remembering verbal sparring matches aboard their own ship, other transport ships and in various rebel camps, between Avon and anyone else. Avon always won.

"Thank you, Demi," she said, leaning toward the man and laying a kind hand on his arm. "I'll just have to find out what happened from someone else, won't I? Something tells me it has a lot to do with the way Avon is now."

He hastened to ask, worry etched across his face, "You're not going to ask father, straight out, are you?"

She shook her head grimly. "No, I think that would be a big mistake. Maybe, though," she paused in thought, "your mother or Alex would tell me. They seem to care for Avon the most."

He nodded. "Yes, they do understand him best, but Alex was scarcely older than I when Tavi died. That only leaves mother or father." His rueful expression made Soolin smile. "I don't envy you trying to get that information out of either of them!"

In the end, Avenil himself gave Soolin the opening she needed.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think of the story so far. In other words, review._


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 6

It was approaching evening, over a month after Soolin and Avon had arrived.

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, leaving behind a long ruddy twilight, she sat on the steps to the large roofed porch that surrounded the farmhouse. The utter peace of this place and time had gradually displaced her chaos and tension. Remembering the way she'd lived her life since her family was killed, she had a difficult time believing this place existed in the same universe.

She scarcely noticed the kitchen door open and close, until someone settled next to her on the stoop. Without looking, she knew it must be Avon's father. No one else had the sheer bulk and presence of Avenil Septus Mercator, nor his impossibly quiet step.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, absorbing the increasing night sounds of insects, night birds, animals bedding down, Josephus and Alex clearing up from supper. As the temperature dropped, the cooling smell of earth rose up, mingling with scent of the hot apple pie Alexandra had served after supper.

When Avenil quietly cleared his throat, bidding for her attention, Soolin angled herself politely toward him, thinking that he seldom did anything quietly, well, except where animals were concerned. With people, though, he usually came on as the authority he was, over everything in his domain. Maybe excepting Josephus.

"Young woman…" he began, then stopped uncertainly. With a shake of his head, he started over. "Sue Lynn. Could you…tell me about my son Cari? I've heard what you told my wife, but he's been gone eighteen years. There has to be more to it than what you told her."

She considered, searching his face in the deepening twilight, trying to divine what it was he wanted of her. Was he looking for a reason to kick them out? Or did he really, truly care how Avon's life had been? She wondered what could be so terrible that it had taken this long for him to express any concern for his second-born son.

Finally, she decided on the truth.

Concentrating on her hands, she began her story.

"I've been with him just over a year, so most of what I know I got from…Vila." Her voice caught as she remembered the little thief. She bit her lip, forcing down the lump of grief threatening to swamp her. Then she sighed, letting go of the emotion. Vila was gone now. At least he didn't need to be afraid anymore.

"He…was Avon's friend. He told me once they met when Vila tried to pick Avon's pocket and got caught. That was just after Avon got to Earth, as I understand it. The two became friends and Vila showed Avon how to get around in the Domes and find a job. Avon worked days and studied computers at night. He came to the notice of the authorities, who were impressed with his skill. They assigned him to something called Acquitar Project.

"That's where he came under the influence of a woman named Anna Grant. Vila obviously didn't like her, but Avon fell in love with her. She somehow managed to get him to leave Acquitar and enter the Federal Banking Cartel."

She paused. How would Avon's father take the next part?

"This part may be hard for you to hear, sir. Vila wouldn't tell me what caused it, but Avon became disillusioned by the Federation and tried to embezzle funds from it through his computers. He almost succeeded, but he and Anna and Vila were caught. The two men were tried and sentenced to Cygnus Alpha, a prison planet. The woman…escaped. Avon…Vila said Avon killed her a couple of years ago." She paused a moment, letting her last remarks sink in. When Avenil remained silent, she continued.

"On the way to Cygnus Alpha, they both joined up with a rebel named Roj Blake and acquired a ship."

At this revelation, Avenil, who'd listened impassively so far, sucked in his breath. "Blake? My son joined Blake?" Then, more to himself than to Soolin, he continued, "Of course, he's 'Kerr Avon'. Why didn't I connect the two?" He sighed deeply, shaking his head. Soolin didn't know how to take this, so she waited patiently for some sign from him.

He sat in thought for several minutes, staring out across the fields into the darkness. Finally he turned to her and spoke.

"We're not so far out that we haven't heard of the exploits of Blake and Avon. While the Federation hasn't laid claim to Grange, it isn't for want of trying. Seems every generation or so, they try, but we've always managed to…dissuade them." The big man chuckled at his own understatement. He straightened his spine and thrust out his chin. "We settled this planet to be our own masters, to take our fate in our own two hands. We adopted the old Roman ways and names, even set up our government like their republics. We jealously guard our independence and believe in individual responsibility." His pride in their accomplishments rang in his voice.

Then his voice quieted. "Cari was always more independent than most. He…did things alone. Preferred it that way. And he never liked to ask for help."

He stilled, so lost in thoughts of the past she didn't dare interrupt. Finally, he shook himself a bit and continued. He sounded…fragile, not a word Soolin would ever have chosen for this proud man. A shiver danced down her spine as he told her his story.

"One day, Cari took that damned Fleetfoot colt of his out for its first training ride. Alone. When I found out, I was furious and sent Octavian out after him. Apparently, after they joined up and were heading back, a sand cat attacked them." He glanced over at her to explain, "They're somewhat like a sabre-toothed tiger from Old Earth and about two-thirds the size of a grown horse. We lose colts and calves to them every spring. I figure the boys got too close to her den and kits."

Pain seeped from his next words. "Cari…came back alone, at a dead run on a terrified, lathered colt. He…was incoherent, couldn't tell us what'd happened, so we backtracked them. Tavi was dead. His horse had been dragged off to the cat's den, but…she left Tavi where he died. The tracks were confused. We couldn't tell what had happened. I…must have gone a little mad then. I accused Cari of cowardice. Of running out on Tavi." Avenil took a huge, shuddering breath and gulped a couple of times. "Cari…didn't answer, just looked at me with those burning eyes of his.

"Things went downhill from there. When he turned sixteen, he left. I told him never to enter my house again."

Soolin saw the glimmer of tears by the distant barn light. She remained silent, sensing he hadn't quite finished.

"All these years, I've blamed Cari for the loss of my eldest son. Now, though, I…feel I should blame myself for the loss of my second son. Oh, we've heard tales of Blake and Avon. I…came to admire the both of them. I saw a picture of Blake, once. I was struck by how much he looked like a grown-up Tavi, though darker. Now, I wonder…"

Silence stretched out for several minutes. Then, bowing his head, Avenil went on. "From all I've heard of Kerr Avon, no matter what he was, a coward he wasn't. I…feel now that I've wronged Cari, but I just don't know what to do to make it right with him. I…don't even know if he recognizes me or any of us, for that matter."

He swung his great head toward Soolin, his voice pleading, "You know him. What do I do?"

In the dimness she couldn't see his face clearly, but she could hear the pain and longing and remorse in his voice, so she gave him the only hope she could.

"Sir, I think you'll have to tell him how you feel, even if he doesn't respond to you. I think he does hear us, but he just can't respond yet. Maybe someday he will. But you mustn't wait till then to tell him. For your own sake as well as his."

In silence she waited for his reply. Had she overstepped his boundaries? He was a proud man. As proud as ever Avon had been, and that was going some. But would he take the advice of a complete stranger, even though he'd asked for her advice?

Eventually, he rose, slowly and heavily. She saw his shadow nod toward her as he spoke. "Maybe you're right. I will tell him. Now."

With that, he strode across the yard toward the barn and his son.

When Avenil disappeared into the barn, Soolin silently followed. She got near enough to the stall Avon called home to hear the murmur of one voice. She guessed they were both sitting in the straw, the space lit only by one lumine lantern, the only kind of safe light permitted in the straw-filled area.

After a time, Avenil rose and came to the stall gate. Pausing for a parting word, she heard him clearly say, "Son, you're welcome in my house. Peace to you."

She backed into the shadows as the man passed her, then crept up to peer into the stall. Avon lay curled in the straw, sound asleep, with the most peaceful look on his face that Soolin had ever seen.

+A new voice intruded on his closed, comfortable world, one he knew, one that hurt him as much as he loved it. He listened and the hurt melted and disappeared, leaving behind only the love. And always, the golden presence was near, watching over him. Finally he knew that it was all right to enter that other place, because the painful bar was gone forever.+

_A/N: Please let me know what you think of the story so far. In other words, review._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 7

The next morning, just before the family sat down to breakfast, Avon, neat and clean and freshly clothed, quietly entered the kitchen.

All movement and sound ceased.

Avon didn't notice. Silent as always, he moved around the great trestle table until he came to the chair that had once been his, between his mother and Alex. It meant nothing to him that the seat was now considered Ston's.

Except to Ston, of course. Ston, mightily put out, didn't dare make a scene.

As everyone sat down, Avon did also. As food was passed, he took his share and ate. Any questions addressed to him went unanswered and, indeed, unnoticed.

After a time, they all quit trying, uneasily finishing the meal.

+Avon began to surface. He recognized his family, even though they'd changed, aged. He wondered remotely if he had changed as much. He knew when his mother and father and sister and brother addressed him, but he was still too far away to answer them. He tried, but the distance overwhelmed him. There were two others now. Ah, yes, it was Soolin, the golden one who had come here with him. The other, though, so dark, so full of hatred and anger, he didn't recognize.+

Fear hit Avon senses like a physical blow. Dazed, he swung his perceptions toward their origin, racing down barn aisles toward the sounds to his sister and Soolin and Ston.

Slewing around the last corner, Avon found Ston attacking Alexandra, being in turn attacked by Soolin. He saw Ston, in a fury, turn to include Soolin in his attack.

Avon paused uncertainly in the opening and Ston caught sight of the true object of his rage. Brushing the two women aside, he closed on Avon, hatred rolling off him in waves that were perfectly visible to Avon's perceptions. As Ston reached Avon and was raising his fists, something inside Avon's mind rose sluggishly to the surface. His attention snapped to focus on Ston and Avon's closed fist came up, connecting solidly with the man's chin. With a roar of pain, Ston grabbed Avon's shoulders and tried to shove him into the wall.

Avon was having none of that. Bringing up both arms, he struck Ston's elbows from the inside, breaking his hold. Grabbing Ston's right arm and twisting to the side, Avon used Ston's own momentum to throw him solidly into that same wall. The crash stunned his attacker long enough for Avon to drop him to the floor and pin him there with a knee across his spine.

In the sudden silence, broken only by heavy breathing, Avon asked calmly, "Are you quite finished abusing women, Ston?" His eyes blazed with a fierce light Soolin hadn't seen in months. _About time he came out of hiding, _she thought. _Good timing, too_.

Ston could barely nod, not having the breath to speak, with Avon's full weight on his back. Abruptly, Avon withdrew and rose, standing protectively between the women and Ston.

"You've no right…" Ston began loudly as he reared up, fists clenched at his side, face red with fury.

"I have every right," Avon answered, eyes blazing. "This is my home and my inheritance and my family. You will pack and leave within the hour or I will throw you bodily off our lands. Understand?" He waited, his pride and menace clear to the other man.

For a moment, Ston didn't move, though he visibly vibrated with rage. Soolin was sure the man was going to do something stupid, like try to take Avon on again.

Then, he seemed to deflate. Beaten, he nodded curtly and, rubbing his aching jaw, stalked out of the barn, striking straw from his clothes with sharp, angry movements.

Avon watched him disappear before turning toward the women. Both of them were still staring at HIM in utter amazement.

Soolin recovered first. She smiled and cocked her head. "Welcome back, Avon."

Alexandra flew toward him and threw herself sobbing into his arms. After a startled moment, he enfolded her in his arms, awkwardly stroking her back and making shushing noises into her hair.

"Come on, Alex, it's over now. There's no need for this. Calm down and talk to me, please?" His voice was still rusty from disuse, his words coming with barely noticeable pauses as he searched for a word here and there.

At last she quieted and drew back, rubbing tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Finally she ceased hiccuping and, looking up into his eyes, said, "I'm…glad you're back, Cari. I've missed you so, all these years." She gave him a watery smile. "I…think we should go in to mother and father, don't you?" She extended her hand to him.

He looked at her small hand. It was work hardened, but still recognizable as his little sister's graceful, long-fingered hand. He flashed back to a long ago afternoon. Summer it was, the air so humid and still you wished for a thunderstorm to come and wash it away. Little Alex had spied him slumped in the shade of the porch roof, too limpid to move. Standing solemnly in front of him, she'd asked him to a tea party with her dolls.

A fond smile tugged at his lips as he remembered sitting on the tiny doll chairs, his long legs drawn up almost to his chin, sipping tea from a cup he held with a very careful forefinger and thumb, while the little 'hostess' chattered away, making small talk with both her mute dolls and her adored older brother.

Now, he gently took her hand. With Soolin trailing behind, the brother and sister walked hand in hand toward the house, together.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think of the story so far. In other words, review._


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 8

"There's always chores to do," she muttered under her breath. Even with Avon whole and back in the bosom of his family, there were always chores to be done.

The slanting early evening sun streamed in the high windows cut deeply into the thick barn walls, setting errant dust motes sparking. It was almost too warm in the cow shed, from all the huge bovine bodies restlessly stirring, waiting for their rations.

She moved down the row of hungry, inquisitive red and white cattle, locked into individual stanchions. They were of a breed Soolin had never encountered before. Tall, elegant, graceful. Red on white or white spotted on red, they seemed to have an intelligence she'd never found in the cattle she'd grown up around. Their white double-curved horns, she'd noticed, were almost like extra hands to some of them.

She snorted, laughing anew at the chaos the previous evening when one almost totally white cow had used her horns to unbar the shed door, letting the herd loose in a ripening cornfield. Soolin and Alex and Josephus had been helpless with laughter at Avenil, Demi, and Avon rushed about, trying to corral the beasts with as little damage done to the field as possible. They'd been only marginally successful, the cows leaping away from the men, racing across the field, their tails in the air, large white udders ga-donging from side to side as they ran.

Biting her lip, she turned her mind firmly back to business, checking each numbered ear tag against her list before releasing the evening feed. Her mind marched onto a new track, reviewing the Mercator family's reaction when Avon strode into the house and announced that he'd thrown Ston off the place for abusing Alex and Soolin.

Demi, entering close behind Soolin, had been in time to hear the part about abusing Soolin. He'd gone taut with rage, reaching an instinctive protectiing arm about her shoulders. When he realized what he'd done, though, he'd recoiled as if burnt and blushed fiercely, glancing quickly at Avon.

Soolin had stored the reaction away for later examination, but still, two days later, hadn't figured it out. She liked Demi and thought he liked her. She understood his action of protectiveness.

But what did Avon have to do with it?

The resulting scene of family homecoming and togetherness had been heartwarming. Seeing Avon and his father reconciled and talking to each other had brought a secret smile to Soolin's lips. Two such strong independent men should stand together.

Demi, though, remained on the sidelines, just watching. Watching Avon. Watching her. She wished she knew what was going on in that young man's head.

"Ahem."

She turned, to find the object of her thoughts leaning, arms crossed, against an empty stanchion. Continuing her work moved her away from Demi, so he followed along. Curiously enough, he kept his distance, allowing her to precede him down the aisle.

Finally, as she neared the end of the line of cattle, he couldn't stand the silence between them and the tension holding him hostage.

"Could I…talk to you?" He was being entirely too formal, which fact set off alarm bells in Soolin's head.

"Sure," she answered neutrally, continuing her work.

"Could you stop a moment?" he begged, finally closing the distance between them and placing a restraining hand on her arm. As she turned toward him, he caught her other arm and held her away from him, searching her face seriously.

"If you want me to go away, I'll understand, but I have to know," he said, eyes delving for some hidden knowledge he desperately needed. "Do you belong to him?"

"Him? Him who?"

"My brother Cari, of course."

She blinked twice, trying to absorb this. Then, drawing away from him, she threw her head back and laughed until tears came to her eyes. Sinking down on a bale of hay, she looked up at the confused man and gasped, "Me…and Avon? Never…" She went through another bout of laughter before she regained her control. By then he was sitting on the bale next to her, a worried, puzzled frown on his face as he tried to make sense of her few words. As he wove his way through the thicket of his own doubts and fears and began to suspect the answer, his eyes brightened and his shoulders lifted.

Finally he queried hopefully, "Does this mean…you're not in love with Cari?"

His question, so serious and ridiculous, almost set her off again, but, biting her lip, she managed to keep a straight face. "No, Demi, I don't belong to Avon." Incipient giggles bubbled up inside her, which she ruthlessly quenched. He was ever so serious!

Demi sat back, blinking, then stuttered, "But…I thought…I mean, you came with him…you went to a lot of trouble for him…"

She stopped him with a finger on his beautiful lips. "Hush. I followed Avon for over a year. I…owed him my loyalty and my help. That's all. Now that he's better, I'm free to do as I wish. Does that answer your question?" She raised her eyebrows at him, willing him to understand.

A great smile of relief lit his handsome face. Taking her hand, he asked gravely, "Sue Lynn, will you marry me?" His earnest gaze never left her face as she fielded his stunning question.

A blinding light struck Soolin. Somehow, in all her concern for Avon and her uncertainty about both their futures, she'd completely missed the fact that she'd fallen in love with Avon's younger brother. He had quietly endeared himself to her, with his gentle ways, his infectious laugh, his strength of character. He, more than anyone, had always shown his concern for her welfare, included her in their everyday life, been there to answer her questions with nonjudgmental warmth and sincerity. And now, as unexpected as snow in summer, he'd asked her to marry him.

_Well, life will never be dull with this one_.

"Yes, Demetrius, I will marry you," she answered solemnly.

With a whoop that startled several of the nearby cows, the young man pulled Soolin off her feet and into an exuberant hug, kissing her soundly.

While some more sane part of her wondered briefly how Avon and his family were going to take this new development, she lost herself in his embrace.

When Demi and Soolin pulled apart, Demi spoke first. "I, uh, that is, could we keep this a secret, just between us? For awhile?" At her furrowed brow, he continued, "Well, this is really Cari's homecoming. I….don't want to take away from that. He needs the welcome and our family needs to…grow together for a bit. Does that make sense to you?"

She smiled at his sensitivity. "Yes, Demi, it does. When the time is right, we'll tell them all."

He grinned in return and hugged her anew.

_A/N: There are two chapters to go. Please review. It makes me happy to know what you think of my stories!_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

_**Warning: Have tissues handy!**_

Chapter 9

The attack came out of nowhere.

One moment Avon and Alex were having a peaceful, companionable ride together. The next Avon was unhorsed, sprawled on the ground looking up into Ston's angry face and the mouth of his gun.

"You can't escape me this time, Carolius Mercator," the man snarled.

His words struck Avon with almost physical force. His mind a momentary, stunned blank, Avon sat up slowly, trying to recover his wind and not set Ston off. Alex was still battling her own terrified gelding. Under lowered lashes, Avon scanned the area for Fleetfoot, spying the stallion already circling back toward them-behind Ston. Maybe…

Ston dismount, a feral grin on his face. His hate of Avon and thoughts of all he'd lost because of the man had flogged him to great lengths to get his planned revenge - Avon's death.

Avon willed his mind into high gear while brushing dust from his clothes. He had to stall, to give Fleetfoot time.

Seeing Avon so casually ignoring him only maddened Ston more. Who was he to feel so superior to Ston? The man had run away from his family and rejected his inheritance, but now his family had welcomed him back, displacing Ston. Hadn't he had worked hard for years, first winning Alexandra to his side, then, he thought, her family? He'd had their future all planned out, until this damnable man had fallen back into their lives.

Avon said evenly, playing for time, "You don't seriously believe you can get away with this, Ston."

"Oh, but I do," Ston sneered. "I could have shot you out of hand, you know."

"Why didn't you?" Avon snapped. _Just a few more moments, please, _he pleaded silently.

"Because I wanted to see your face as I killed you!" He spat out his words like venom from a snake. "Everything was going my way until you showed up and ruined it all. Well, now that's over. It'll just be an unfortunate accident and Avenil will welcome me back with open arms." Ston closed on Avon, so intent upon murder that he had no attention to spare for the sound of hoofbeats behind him until it was far too late.

Fleetfoot, in all his arrogant stallion glory, hit Ston with 1500 lbs. of raging muscle, sending the man flying one direction, his gun another. Avon himself barely managed to roll out of the way, calling to the horse, trying desperately to prevent what he knew was coming.

Horses have very long memories when it comes to kindness or abuse, and Fleet had stored up 18 years of rage at men in general and this man in particular. He was not about to be denied his chance.

As the stallion wheeled for a second approach, Ston spied his weapon and made a scrambling dive for it, his hand clutching it just as the black reached him. Ston rolled from under the charge, steadied the gun in both hands and opened fire.

The projectiles hit the horse solidly in the chest, but did nothing to stop him.

Spinning and rearing, the stallion danced into the air, falling and hitting Ston full force with both front hooves, pounding at the man again and again, until the hated human lay still.

Then, with silent awful grace, his revenge complete, Fleetfoot knelt, toppled over, and died.

Alex, still mounted and instinctively holding her gelding in tight check, was weeping uncontrollably. Her gelding quivered with fear, wide-eyed, ears back, snorting at the smell of blood. Avon, dismissing the man as dead, approached his horse. First pausing to stare down at the animal he owed his life to, he knelt, patting the great arched neck one last time.

Around the lump in his throat and unbearable tightness in his chest, he whispered, "I'm going to miss you, boy."

_A/N: Please review. One chapter to go._


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: _DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Avon and Soolin, Vila, or Blake. The rest of the characters are my invention, however._

Chapter 10

Soolin paused uncertainly in the doorway of Avon's room. It was a plain room, devoid of mementos or pictures or personal possessions. Lying close under the hipshot roof, the ceiling, painted a pale blue, struck at angles, some slopes low enough to make a man of Avon's height duck. The only window was framed by white gauzy curtains, blowing gently in the cool morning breeze.

Yet, the bedroom was somehow warm and welcoming. That probably came from the hand-stitched, colorful counterpane covering the narrow single bed and the crocheted edge of the runner crossing the dark wood bureau beneath one slanted ceiling. As a backdrop for the Avon Soolin had once known, it was quite surreal.

But she herself had changed, hadn't she?

In her plain long-sleeved blue shirt and rough work pants, she looked nothing like the stylish spacer gunhand she'd been. Even her golden hair had changed, the fanciful stylings given way to a simple clubbing at the nape of her neck, though a few curls had escaped, softly framing her tanned face. That too bore evidence of a new lifestyle, one she was comfortable with, her former severe demeanor more open and relaxed.

Still, a frown creased her brow as she observed Avon.

"You're packing."

He turned his gaze toward her, but his hands continued their work, neatly folding a pair of pants. "I'm leaving for the port before noon."

"Does your family know?"

"Not yet, though Alex suspects." Closing his carrysack, he sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned her to the window seat opposite.

"Why, Avon?" she asked quietly. "Everything is going so well. Can't you…just be happy here? Make a new life?"

He was silent a moment, marshalling his thoughts. He owed her his life. How could he explain that he had to leave her and his home and family? That some things were so important you had to leave them?

When finally he spoke, there was more than a trace of sadness about him. "I…have to go back, to take up the cause."

"No!" she burst out angrily. "You're not obligated to it! It's cost us enough already-our ship, our friends, even your sanity! No!"

"But I cost Blake his life," Avon returned softly, raising his eyes to hers. Passion crept into his cool voice, a new note she'd never heard before. "It's not just for him anymore, either. I'm doing it for my family, for the people of Grange, for all the other planets that simply want to live their lives their own way, with no one dictating to them."

Suspiciously, mildly sarcastically, she demanded, "Where did you catch idealism, Avon? This is not like you at all."

"Here," he answered simply, gazing past her out the window. "This place. These people." He paused, soaking in the quiet and the peace around them. "I'd forgotten the people, their lives, the land. I can see now what Blake always saw. My family, this 'steading - they're my roots, much as I've tried to deny it all my life."

He lowered his eyes again to hers, a fierce light burning there, one she'd seen only once before, in the eyes of Blake.

"I'm the only one left who's qualified to fight for them. So, I must go."

She nodded. She had accepted of his decision, but played her last card anyway. "Demetrius has asked me to marry him and I've accepted. We've been keeping it a secret until the right moment."

He laughed, a marvelously free sound. "From whom? The whole family knows, Soolin. We aren't blind! Seriously, though, I wish you both the best. You deserve some peace and happiness."

His gaze darkened. "Maybe…someday I'll be able to come back for some of that peace myself."

The woman rose and thoroughly surprised Avon by throwing her arms around his waist. After a moment, he gently enfolded her in his strong arms as she buried her face, murmuring into the rough wool of his tunic, "I hope you do, Avon. You deserve it, too."

She started to pull away, but his arms prevented it, only allowing enough space between them for him to focus on her face.

"Soolin, thank you. For protecting me, for believing in me, for helping me to come home."

She returned gravely, "You're welcome, Kerr Avon. And thank you, for sharing your home and your family with me."

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story and thank you for reading._


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